


roygbiv

by yeostabby



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 7 + 1, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Boys In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, itzy are only supporting characters im sorry they deserve better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeostabby/pseuds/yeostabby
Summary: wooyoung and san have been friends since they were 10. and then they fell in love.a story of love and loss, told in vignettes each related to a color of the rainbow.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so, imagine woosan, but i read if we were villians. and you get this fic. have fun!

_red_

red. like blood. like the scrape on the pretty boy’s knee. 

well, san thinks he’s pretty. san is 10 years old, and doesn’t really have a grasp on what’s pretty or not. he thinks his mom is pretty. he thinks the flowers outside his bedroom window are pretty. he thinks the boy, sitting curled up and holding his knee, is pretty too. even though he’s crying.

wait, he’s crying?

'no! no, don’t cry, i’m sorry!' 

san really is sorry. he decided to take in his new neighbourhood via skateboard, and accidentally ended up crashing. into a stranger. It’s barely his fault - he’s skated maybe twice before, and his brand new shiny red skateboard was more difficult to control then he expected. for a moving day gift, it wasn’t doing him a lot of favours after moving.

'w-who even are you?' 

the boy (san has lovingly nicknamed him ‘pretty boy’) looks up through his tears and his floppy too-long black hair to make eye contact. wow, even his eyes are pretty.

'i’m your new neighbour - i think - i just moved into number 34! Unless you don’t live here, in which case i’m not your new neighbour, i'm someone else’s new neighbour! But if you do live here, especially if you live in 32 or 36 or across the road in 35, then i’m especially your neighbour. Don’t you think it’s weird how-'

  
pretty boy puts a hand up to stop san's rant. And reveals that only not only are his knees scratched up and bleeding red, so is the palm of his hand. 

'you’re hurt! i hurt you so bad, i’m so sorry!' San immediately grabs the pretty boy’s hand. He doesn’t have the best knowledge of first aid, given that he’s 10 and all, but whenever he gets hurt, his mom always likes to kiss it better. 

worth a try.

san grabs the pretty boy’s hand. he makes a noise somewhere between complaint and confusion. san takes it as consent, and starts kissing the palm of his hand. 

'ah!' pretty boy screams and tries to pull away, but san is determined. he goes with pretty boy’s force and ends up lying on top of him. he continues to kiss his hand, but most of his energy is diverted to just trying to make him stop wriggling so much. he ends up so focused on keeping him still that pretty boy easily gets the upper hand and flips them over. 

woah.

pretty boy is illuminated by the sun now, and it sort of looks like a halo. san never knew what was pretty or not, but he’s got an idea now. 

'why did you try to kiss me?! who does that to a stranger?' oh. right. should probably focus on what pretty boy is saying instead of admiring his face. 'i was trying to make you better!' san will not go down easy. he’ll defend his actions to hell and back. 

'by kissing me?! you’re such a freak!' pretty boy rolls off and ends up lying next to san. 

'i only kissed your hand!'

'and my knee!'

san dissolves in giggles. a few moments pass, then pretty boy is giggling too. the concrete is warm under their skin. 

under any other circumstance, it’d probably be weird to lie on the sidewalk with someone you’ve only known for 5 minutes. and spent all 5 of those minutes arguing. but for some reason, this feels natural. like all ten years of san’s life has been leading up to laughing on the pavement with this boy. like everything before was prologue, and now Act 1 is beginning.

'doesn’t this feel like fate?' san rolls over to look at pretty boy. he’s already looking at san.

'you’re really, really weird.' san’s been called weird before. no-one has ever said it quite as sincerely, or as fondly. they lie in silence for a few more moments. for a while, that’s all there is. the warmth of the concrete, the warmth of the sun, and the warmth of pretty boy’s eyes. wow, maybe san should become a poet. or something.

'wooyoung! wooyoung!!' the moment is broken by a shout from one of the houses. pretty boy wooyoung sits up so fast san is worried he might hurt himself - even more then san hurt him. 

'bye! i hope you enjoy living in your new house!' wooyoung starts running before san’s even vertical yet - why is he so frantic?

'WOOYOUNG! wait!' he almost comically skids to a stop, spinning on his feet to look at san. behind him, a middle aged man stands in the doorway of 32, hands on hips.

'my name is san!' 

wooyoung smiles and laughs, almost like he can’t believe he was interrupted just to find out sans name. 

'san.' he muses for a second. 'i like it! i’ll see you around, san!' wooyoung runs into his house, and san flops back onto the concrete. his mom will call him in soon, but for now he can just sit.  
sit and look at the sunset, which is lighting up the sky a brilliant red. 

_orange_

it’s fall. it’s fall, and there’s orange leaves everywhere. san forces his eyes away from the piles and across the driveway. there, wooyoung is - he’s just standing there. staring. wearing an orange sweater. 

san’s orange sweater. he had left it at wooyoung's house years ago. it's incredible it still fits. he makes eye contact with san then, and he feels his resolve to leave shatter even further. wooyoung walks across the paved drive, and it feels like each step is echoing. he stops on the other side of san’s beat up car. it’s ridiculous, rusty and older than san and wooyoung combined. but it’s got flowers painted on it, chipping acrylic paint flowers. san painted them, wooyoung helping. 

'so. this is it?'

san looks up. wooyoung. wearing sans orange sweater, hair black and messy, eyes rimmed with tears. his hands are resting on the roof of the car. gently. like the 1976 sedan is a bomb that might explode at any second.

or maybe it's not the car he's avoiding.

maybe it's the bags packed in the trunk. 

maybe it's san.

an orange leaf falls down from the tree above their hands and lands on wooyoung’s head. he makes no move to brush it off. both of them are quiet, and still. like this is the final act of the play, and every movement is another line towards fin.

it hits san then, as the orange leaves fall, that he’s not ready to say goodbye. he’s not ready at all. he’s grown up with wooyoung, hand in hand since they were ten. and now they’re all grown up, moving on. he wants to push the car away, cross the space towards wooyoung and just - hold him. or something. kiss him. hug him. never let him go. but he can’t.

careful eyes are watching from the windows, an uninvited audience for their tragic play. they have to keep acting, going through the motions of a normal friendship like they aren’t so much more. 

at least, once the play is over, he won’t have to act anymore.

'i-i’ll miss you, wooyoung. when i’m at...you know.'

'fancy rich kid art school?'  
san laughs without humour. the tears were almost hidden behind the good natured teasing, but not quite. they’re there, wooyoung’s voice cracking on the ‘art’. 

'it’s drama school, technically. so, you know. there’s a difference.'

'oh, you’ll be super unemployed instead of just regular unemployed?'

'shut up!'

wooyoung smiles. a big toothy grin that would have fooled anyone but san. it’s impossible for either of them to be genuinely happy, not now. not today. not standing on either side of the car they painted together, waiting for san to leave and the act to fall apart.

'you...you could come with me, if you wanted to.'

'san, don’t say that.'

'but you could. even just for the drive. drop me off, say goodbye there.'

'san-'

'i’m not ready to say goodbye, wooyoung. i’m not. just...give me a few more days?'

san isn’t above begging. wooyoung walks around the car, coming to a stop just before san and taking one of his hands in his. 

'san, you know i want to...it's just…'

'WOOYOUNG!!'

a voice interrupts them. the same voice that interrupted them all those years ago. wooyoung's father. he’s a stout man, aged terribly, hands locked with arthritis that set in 20 years before it should’ve. wooyoung turns to look at him, dropping san’s hands like they burn.

'we’re going to the shop, boy. say goodbye to the neighbour and get going.'

the neighbour.

such a simple word for everything wooyoung is to san. everything san is to wooyoung. 

'i’ll miss you san! i-i will.'

'is this really how it's going to end?'

san is desperate, voice cracking, hands balling into fists. he doesn’t want to leave wooyoung behind. he doesn’t want wooyoung to leave.

‘isn’t it already over?'

he reaches his arms out for a hug, but san doesn’t return it. he can’t. if he hugs wooyoung, he won’t be able to go. he won’t. 

wooyoung drops his arms. the curtain falls. the dust begins to settle. wooyoung takes one step away, one step towards his father. it takes everything san has to not reach out and hold on. an orange leaf falls between them. 

san opens the car door, almost robotically. his mother has gone ahead with the bulk of his things. it’s just him now. him and wooyoung’s back. 

as san settles behind the car wheel, he remembers.

wooyoung still has the sweater. wooyoung still has his sweater. he’s never going to get it back.

he’s never going to be able to come back.

san begins to cry, orange leaves piling up on the bonnet.

_yellow_

yellow, like the sun. or like wooyoung’s hair. he had decided, on a whim, that his teenage rebellion was going to start right now. and it was going to start with a cheap bottle of hair bleach and stolen beer. it’s summer - of course it’s summer, every bad decision starts in summer - and after day after day of lying in san’s backyard, staring at clouds, wooyoung had announced he was making a change.

san was helping. they had other friends, of course - wooyoung had jongho and yunho from his basketball team, san had yeosang and seonghwa from the drama club, but it always came back to them. san and wooyoung. wooyoung and san. woosan, if you wanted to go by the name they made up when they were 12. and it was always them. together. 

even though they’re 16 now (one day away from being 17, for san) and having one ‘best friend’ is considered uncool, they could care less. who needs a massive friend group when you have wooyoung and all his idiotic ideas? right. the hair bleach.

they had gone to a convenience store first - barely 3 aisles, but got the bleach. they did it san’s bathroom, his mother only slightly disapproving. (as opposed to wooyoung’s parents, who might not even let him in the house with dyed hair let alone them do the deed there. san had been in charge of applying (according to wooyoung, his mediocre skills in painting made him the perfect man for the job). they had let it sit for an hour, playing uno across the sink. san lost miserably every time. once wooyoung started complaining about his scalp being ‘on fire’, they washed it out. after some toning and reapplying, and most of the day and then following night spent fixing the color, they had ended up with a sunny golden yellow colour. sans mother remarked that it ‘fit his personality perfectly. san agreed, but wooyoung would hit him if he told him he felt the sun shined out of his eyes. 

the sun is shining through the window, at the moment. filtered through sans sheer white curtain and shining onto wooyoung’s face and his golden hair. wooyoung’s asleep - after the hair bleaching marathon of last night, they’re taking a well deserved nap. san should be sleeping. but he just..wants to watch.

the rise and fall of wooyoung's chest.

the way he’s still smiling slightly, even in his sleep.

san thinks back to when he moved in. he had thought wooyoung was the prettiest person he’d ever seen. 

he hasn’t changed his mind.

it’s a lovely morning - still early, not disgustingly hot just yet, warm enough to be comfortable. they’ll spend this day like they spend all their days - together, loitering around shopping centers. wooyoung works in his dad's mechanic shop when san has shifts at the local ice cream parlour. that’s the only time they’re apart. when san’s shift ends, he drives to the shop and picks up wooyoung, ignoring the glare wooyoung's father is drilling into san’s back. and then they spend the rest of the day together. rinse and repeat for the next 2 months. 

wooyoung makes a soft noise and rolls over, curling even closer to san. they’ve shared a bed before, but something about this feels..different. it’s probably the concerning pain in san’s heart, like something is holding it and squeezing it tightly.

he has an idea about who that is. and he wants to laugh, because it’s too perfect. like the shakespearean tragedies he’s so fond of reading.

boy meets boy. 

boy becomes best friends with boy.

boy falls hopelessly, deeply in love with boy despite there being no chance boy will ever love him back. 

and scene.

wooyoung shifts again, groaning as he wakes up.   
he rolls over, face ending up mashed in the pillow. 

'were you staring at me again?'

half the sentence is lost to the pillow, but san understands. 

'no!'

'weirdo.' 

wooyoung says with such fondness its heartbreaking. san has to move, has to get up and get out before he does something crazy like try to kiss him. 

'come on, wooyoungie! summer has begun!'

san opens the curtain with a flourish, watching as the golden sunlight pours into the room and directly onto wooyoung’s face. he burrows further into the pillow. it does strange things to sans heart. 

'sannnnnn~ lie down!'

even though san knows that wooyoung is just trying to get more sleep (it’s not like he actually wants to cuddle san), he can’t refuse. he flops back down, lying on his side and looking down at wooyoung’s head.

'you know, you’ll have to dye it black again before school starts. ‘s against the rules to have unnatural colours.'

'blonde’s a natural colour.'

'for a korean?'

wooyoung giggles at that, sleepy and soft and dangerous. 

'i’m sure they’ll believe me~ i’m a brilliant liar.'

'right. it’s not like you’ve been going to the same school with the same teacher for how many years?'

'sannn!' 

again, there’s that whiny pouty tone that san can’t say no to.

'you’re ruining it. now hush. go to sleep.'

the curtain is still open, golden yellow sunlight filtering in. it matches wooyoung, san thinks.

  
he doesn’t want this summer to ever end.

_green_

san never understood why people nicknamed jealousy ‘the green monster’. however, standing under the painted green archway staring at wooyoung’s receding back, he got an idea.

wooyoung was very rarely jealous. when seonghwa was new and attached to san, wooyoung didn’t mind and instead welcomed him warmly. this was different, though. it had all started at the cast announcement. 

‘romeo and juliet’. the junior years play was destined to be a shitshow - seriously, they’re 15 acting out a romance. but, the play went on ahead. san had auditioned (being part of the drama club meant he didn’t have much of a choice). when the cast list was announced, he was almost shaking with nerves. he read the list, but didn’t have to read far. there, just one line down, was his name. 

_juliet_ ………………………………… shin ryujin   
_romeo_ ………………………………… choi san

romeo? he was going to play _romeo_? as in, romeo montague, lead star of the play?

holy shit!

san went from ‘nervous about the cast list’ to ‘nervous about the entire play’ in record time. next to him, wooyoung was congratulating yeosang and seonghwa - mercutio and benvolio. he hadn’t commented on san’s role yet, however. which obviously san didn’t care about, he was very mature and understood that he couldn’t have wooyoung to himself all the time. next to him, ryujin and her friends were giggling. she smiled at san, before dissolving into laughter and almost sprinting away. huh.

rehearsals started soon after, and san and ryujin were tasked with the challenge of convincingly falling in love. ryujin was nice, and pretty, and if san wasn’t so conflicted with his feelings for w...other people, maybe they could have fallen in love for real. they do get closer though, over afternoons spent poring over monologues and lines and blocking. meanwhile, off stage, wooyoung is acting … weird. 

suddenly, he has basketball practice all the time, even though san swears the rest of the team doesn’t. he makes excuses to avoid san, volunteering to join another group in their history class for the project (claiming they already had enough, and the other group only had 2 members), and being ‘slammed with homework’ every time san wants to do something on the weekend. when he does see wooyoung, he’s so frosty san almost gets ice burn. 

'hey, san? san!'

that’s ryujin, calling back to earth. 

'yeah, ryu?'

'just a heads up - ms kang has decided we need to practice in front of an audience, so she’s invited some students.'

'huh? who?'

ryujin shrugs. 

'i think she was trying to convince coach kim to let the basketball team off practice to come watch, but i have no idea.' 

oh. the basketball team. that means it’s possible wooyoung will be in the crowd. yay.

feeling himself already weighed down from the stress of practice, having to deal with wooyoung fills him with dread. when he dons his green cloak for his first scene, his arms feel like lead pipes. 

however, plays do not stop because one actor is feeling down. the show must go on, and all that. when the party begins, and he’s dragged onto stage by seonghwa-as-benvolio, he catches his first glimpse of wooyoung. pushing the thought aside to carry on the scene, he suddenly understands why so many of shakespeare’s tragedies are about love. feeling the absence of wooyoung is almost destroying him. the scene continues, and he shakes himself into action, pretending to notice ryujin-as-juliet for the first time.

overall, the first dress rehearsal is a success. while ms kang has notes upon notes of changes, she lets them go with a thumbs up. san takes his time getting changed, part of him hoping wooyoung will have left and the other part of him hoping he’s staying behind. when he finally files out, he sees him.

wooyoung.

he’s standing on the stage, admiring the set. san thinks he should have been romeo - he looks like a true prince, even in his school uniform. 

san isn’t sure how he’s supposed to act around wooyoung. so, he falls back on acting. 

_‘O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!_  
_It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night-’_

‘drop it, san.’

he does. wooyoung seems sad, sadder than san’s ever seen him.

‘are you ok, wooyoung?’

wooyoung laughs, but there’s no humour behind it. 

‘sure.’

‘so why have you been so shitty to me?’

maybe san shouldn’t have asked him so brusquely, but he’s spent the last weeks being ignored by his closest friend. he has the right to be a little pissed off.

‘san, just - just drop it, please.’

‘no! no, i deserve an explanation, or something!’

‘san-’

san crosses the stage to wooyoung. he’s mad. wooyoung has been ignoring him, hurting him, and now he just wants to drop it like there’s never been a problem? 

‘tell me, wooyoung! what the fuck did i do?’ 

‘you didn’t do anything, san!’

‘so why the hell have you been mad at me?’

‘because -’

wooyoung is quiet for a second, fuming.

‘because i don't know why i’m angry, san! because seeing you be in love with ryujin pisses me the hell off, and i don't know why!’

oh. oh. he’s jealous...but of san or ryujin? it has to be san, but…

‘listen, wooyoung…’

‘no. look san, i’ve been a dick. i'm sorry. i should have put my feelings aside and just got over it, but...can we just never talk about this? i made a mistake.’

san would very much like to talk about this. he knows if he leaves it here, it won’t ever get picked up again. it’ll become this thing, this unspoken wedge between them that san doesn’t know they can survive. but wooyoung looks so frail, so insecure and vulnerable that all san wants to do is protect him. 

‘okay...ok, wooyoung, we’ll leave it. i accept your apology. see you tomorrow?’

wooyoung smiles, grateful. 

  
‘thank you, san.’

he turns then, and leaves, leaving san standing underneath the hand painted green arch. later, it becomes the altar he marries juliet under. 

the green jealousy and unspoken words flow through the air, making themselves home in between their friendship.

_blue_

lots of things are blue. the ocean. the sky. mingis hair. 

they had met mingi on a summer vacation the the beach that wooyoung's family went on. wooyoung kicked up such a fuss about having to spend time with his annoying little sister he was allowed to bring a friend. of course, that friend was san. 

while at the beach, playing basketball (playing is a strong word for it. san was getting his ass kicked by wooyoung while playing basketball), they had met mingi. disgustingly tall and semi talented, he had actually turned the tide against wooyoung after offering to play. and like that, their duo became a trio.

mingi fit in very well. he was from the town they were staying in, and was able to show them around to all the cool spots that weren’t in the guide book. he was the same age as them (just freshly fourteen) and ridiculously friendly. his hair was a shocking bright blue, and he immediately became the coolest person san knew. however, trouble followed. one night, he had come up to the holiday home wooyoung’s family was renting. wooyoung’s father took one look at mingi, and immediately disapproved. social norms kept him from straight up insulting the boy, but he obviously wasn’t happy every time wooyoung came home with a blue haired boy trailing him. 

they had been lying on the beach on their last day there, discussing who they had celebrity crushes on, when sans world got a little...rocked. 

wooyoung had offered boa as his crush (boring! mingi had remarked), 

while san offered britney spears (i like her hair, said wooyoung)

mingi had remarked he had a crush on leonardo dicaprio. 

‘oh. but isn’t he a guy?’

san can feel mingi stiffen up. 

‘yeah...he’s still hot, though.’

wooyoung makes a noise of agreement somewhere in the back of his throat.  
‘i wouldn’t go for him, but i guess objectively. yeah. he’s hot.’

oh. san didn’t know wooyoung found other guys hot. even objectively.

‘are you gay, mingi?’

san was this close to forcing wooyoung to shut up. but then again, the number of openly queer people at their high school was 0. if san didn’t have full knowledge of his mothers string of girlfriends, he’d probably be the same.

‘yeah. got a problem with it?’

‘...no?’

‘you don’t sound very certain.’

‘well. my dad always says that gay people are disgusting. but, you’re one of my friends. and i knew you before i knew you were gay, and you’re not disgusting, so. i guess i don’t have a problem with it.’

mingi laughs. 

‘you know, most people with homophobic parents do not get over it that easily.’

wooyoung smiles, but he looks a little sad.

‘yeah...i guess i’ve had to think about it a lot. whether it’s really that bad to date a guy or not.’

that catches sans attention. for the last 4 years, he’s assumed wooyoung is about as straight as it gets. knowing that he’s thought about dating guys….has he though about dating san? no. no, san. don’t think about that. don’t think about you and wooyoung dating. don’t even think about him in any romantic context. 

mingi giggles again.

‘and what conclusion did you reach, wooyoungie?’

‘hm. i don't know. if i was gonna date a guy, it’d have to be a certain guy. type of guy, i mean.’

‘got someone in mind?’

there’s a silence, empty and vast.

‘no. no, i don’t think i’d date a guy at all. nothing wrong with it, though. just. not what i’d do.’

‘fair enough’. 

mingi and wooyoung start chatting about some inane subject, but san can’t concentrate. why does it hurt him that he knows wooyoung wouldn’t date a guy? why does he even care? god, being 14 is difficult. being 14 and maybe in love with your best friend is worse. he swallows it down. swallows the feelings deep, deep down. maybe then he won’t ever have to think about them. won’t ever have to wooyoung in that way. he needs a distraction, or else he’s going to start sobbing on this beach.

‘come on, guys, let’s go swimming!’ 

he jumps up, already pulling off his sweater and running towards the ocean. mingi and wooyoung follow, laughing. he doesn’t need to be in love, not when he can have friends like these.

later, wooyoung is complaining about being cold. san passes him his sweater, thinking none of it. the orange of the sweater contrasts against the way his lips are slightly turning blue from cold.

why does san want to kiss them to warm them up?

_indigo_

yeji’s dress is beautiful. it’s a deep purple, almost indigo in colour. wooyoung is wearing a matching tie. he looks...amazing.

his black hair is styled in a swoop, and the tuxedo fits him perfectly. he’s smiling at yeji. san can’t even pretend to focus on his date. he feels terrible for ryujin, but he just can’t concentrate on anything but wooyoung at the moment. it’s their final school dance, and maybe he should be a little more involved but all he can do is watch wooyoung dance. the night carries on, sky darkening to a deep purple. he’s avoiding the dance floor, and ryujin is spending time with her friends.

however, when a slow dance starts he can’t avoid her anymore. the hand on her hip feels so wrong, not when wooyoung is right by him, smiling down at yeji. if this whole thing has been a show, then this is the final event, the final rise before the fall. san goes through the motions, spinning ryujin and laughing when she makes a joke. his eyes are glued on wooyoung. wooyoung. wooyoung.

it’s always been wooyoung. always will be wooyoung. as much as san wants to deny it, he’s been in love with wooyoung since he was 10. why this realization is coming to him during the slow dance with a different girl, he’s not sure. but it doesn’t matter. their eyes connect across the dance floor. 

san wishes he was anywhere else.

anywhere he could be alone with him.

the teenagers are all gathered into a crowd, herded towards the stage at the end. the band that was definitely lip syncing shuffle off, and the principal bounds on stage, looking over excited as usual.

‘hello, everyone! it is my pleasure to announce prom king, and prom queen!’

a roar of claps and cheers. san knows he has no chance - wooyoung was nominated however, and he might just win.

‘ok, first up - prom king! so, the nominees are lee mark, jung wooyoung, choi yeonjun, and hwang hyunjin. drum roll please!’

the crowd begins to cheer with anticipation. 

‘congratulations….jung wooyoung!’

san smiles and claps. of course, wooyoung would be king. he already rules san’s heart, why not prom too. he goes up to accept the crown and flowers, laughing as people cheer. 

‘next, prom queen!’

he barely listens, distracted by the way wooyoung looks under the stage lights. when yeji’s name is announced, he claps and cheers, but it's numb. like he’s watching from underwater, and the only thing that’s clear is wooyoung’s smile. he’s smiling at san.

there’s something behind his eyes, something he wants to say, but the two haven’t been able to be alone with each other since the night began. the deep indigo of yeji’s dress shines under the spotlight. she’s holding wooyoung’s hand. they smile, and then he kisses her.

he runs. pushes through the crowd and ends up outside.

the night sky is deep. a deep purple, stars shining like they’ve been painted. he wishes it was a set, then he could just tear it down and be anywhere else, but outside the prom where the boy he loves is dancing with someone else. 

a hot tear rolls down his cheek. 

he feels so stupid for crying, but he’s in love. so in love it hurts. wooyoung has a vice grip around his heart, and when he kissed yeji he shattered it. san has to pick up the pieces. 

he can’t see the shards through his tears. 

‘san?’

wooyoung?

‘i thought you’d be inside.’

‘you’re not.’

san looks up at wooyoung. his cheeks are flushed and he’s panting slightly like he’s been running for miles. 

‘san, listen-’

‘shouldn’t you be dancing with yeji? king and queen dance, and all that.’

‘yeah, san, we did that - that’s done, they’re playing something else now, but you need to listen to me-’

‘go back to her, wooyoung. you obviously like her. tell ryu i’m sorry, please?’

‘no, san! i’m not going back inside to yeji. i’m not going back inside to anyone.’

wooyoung almost yells, voice choked by tears. san feels so numb and cold. he doesn’t want to see wooyoung, doesn’t want to remember everything he can’t have.

‘i don't want to go back inside. not when you’re out here. ok, san? are you listening? i need to be out here, i need to be with you, san-’

‘you kissed her.’

‘and i shouldn't have! i kissed her because that's what the prom king and queen always do, but it was wrong and i shouldn’t have-’

san laughs. he looks up. 

‘you don’t have any reason for it to be wrong. noone you’re cheating on, noone you should be kissing instead..’

wooyoung takes a step forward. they’re dangerously close. san can’t look at him, so he focuses on the deep indigo of his tie. 

‘don’t be an idiot, san.’

that causes san to look up. 

‘i have you.’

silence follows the confession. the statement. the fact. san doesn’t know what to say. he - is - is wooyoung telling him he...likes san?

‘don’t play with me, wooyoung, don’t fuck around with me like that-’

‘i’m not!’ a flash of red hot anger into the night.

‘i’m not fucking with you san, i, i’ve been in love with you for years and i can’t just ignore it anymore! if you don’t feel the same, i understand but i just had to-’

‘can i kiss you?’

‘what?’

san has always been fairly straightforward. when wooyoung nods, he takes a step forward and closes the gap between them. when their lips connect, it’s like the galaxy falls into place. some shitty pop song is playing from the hall, san is freezing his ass off inside, but all there is is wooyoung.

wooyoung. wooyoung. always wooyoung.

_violet_

wooyoung. he’s been hurt. it’s a few days after prom. they had spent that night together, and then the following day. but once wooyoung went home, it had been radio silence. san has been out of his mind with worry. is wooyoung ok? are they ok? this development in their relationship is still fragile and the wrong move could shatter it. 

but now, wooyoung is back. standing on the driveway outside san’s home. it’s the evening, and the sun is on the cusp of setting. he looks like he’s been crying. a brilliant violent bruise is blooming on his jaw. 

‘wooyoung, oh my god - are you ok? come in, i can help-’

wooyoung raises a hand to stop san’s rambling. he takes a few steps out, before sitting on the road. san follows, confused. 

‘do you remember what this road means?’

‘um..it’s where you broke your arm trying to ride a bike with no hands?’

‘no.’

‘it’s where i broke my ankle trying to do a kickflip?’

wooyoung laughs, but it’s so sad san wants to cry.  
‘it’s where we met. where you ran me over with a skateboard.’

san smiles. 

‘yeah, and somehow you didn’t kick me to the curb.’

the memory is fond, and familiar. like a worn shirt that’s been washed too many times. san likes to revisit it, back to time when everything was going to be alright and the future was .  
limitless. now, it feels they’ve hit the time limit and the buzzers gone off.

‘wooyoung...what is it? what’s wrong?’

if wooyoung heard him, he takes no notice.

‘and then we became best friends. i don't know when that wasn’t enough. i think i was 14. we were down at the beach. remember mingi? he asked me if i’d ever date a guy. my kneejerk reaction was no. but then i looked over at you, and you were staring at the stars. and you were so perfect. and then later, you, you gave me your sweater...the orange one? yeah. i just...you were everything to me.’

wooyoung’s started to cry. thick tears pouring down his cheeks, dripping off onto the tar seal. san goes to comfort him, but wooyoung’s speaking before he even can.

‘i didn’t realise it until romeo and juliet. that fucking play, man. and i saw you getting close with ryujin, and i realised you were slipping through my fingers and i couldn’t do anything about it. and i shouldn’t have got mad at you about it, but every time i saw you all i could think was how wrong it was that i was mad at ryu for being close to you. i-i couldn't do it.’

san grabs wooyoung's hand, desperate to touch and comfort and hold, but wooyoung jerks away like he’s been burnt. his violet bruise flames in the setting sunlight. everything is quiet, but the silence is deafening, like the pause before the audience claps. san isn’t sure what’s going on, but he can feel the other shoe waiting to drop.

‘so i swallowed it down. for years, i just..forced it down. but then, prom, and everything came bubbling up and i realised i couldn't lose you. i had gotten so ...content with not having you, as long as there wasn’t anything else. when i realised i needed to take the leap - i thought it was too late. i thought you hated me.’

‘i could never hate you.’

‘let me finish. you might change your mind.’

‘and that night...it was everything, san. i wanted everything and i got it. should’ve known i don't get that lucky.’

wooyoung speaks with such bitterness it’s like acid, dissolving the road and letting wooyoung and san fall into the void. 

‘wooyoung...what happened when you went home?’

san whispers. he’s aware of the beady eyes of curious neighbours peering out through the windows. if he’s been acting out a play, he’s drawing the curtain on the audience.

‘he knew.’

‘oh, god.’

if wooyoung's father knew about them, if he figured it out… that spells disaster.

‘i came home, but he had seen us go in together. seen us not come out. saw the stupid fucking hickeys on my neck…’

wooyoung breaks down into sobs, doubled over and heaving like it’s an exorcism.

‘did he give you that bruise?’

san stands, full of rage. in number 32, a man stands in the window, his arms folded. his jaw is set and eyes flaming. san sits back down.

‘but san...he thinks its your fault. he-if i don’t cut you off, he’ll kill you. run you over with his truck, he said. he...he’s not joking. the way he said it…’

wooyoung grabs san's arm. 

‘i know we weren’t ever officially together, but...i’m breaking up with you, choi san.’

‘no-’

‘i’m breaking up with you, both as your boyfriend and your friend. i love you, i love you so much-’

‘wooyoung, no!’

‘but i won’t let you get hurt!’

wooyoung stands. he looks down at san, silhouetted by the burning violet sunset. 

‘we’re-we’re still neighbours! we can still see each other, i’ll talk to him, we can still hang out together, wooyoung!’

wooyoung shakes his head, a bitter smile distorting his face.  
‘he’s got me working at the shop all summer. from dawn to dusk. probably longer than that too. i’m sorry, san. we deserved more than this. and i love you, i do. i love you more than this life. maybe, we’ll be reborn. we’ll find each other again.’

wooyoung bends down, pressing a gentle kiss against san’s forehead. a tear escapes. how much pain will that little spark of affection cost him?

‘i’ll find you again, choi san. what’s that dumb quote you like? ‘there would be no rainbows without sunshine and rain.’?’

san nods. he found it in a book his mother read to him when he was young.

‘this is just the rain, san. we’ll find each other when the sun starts shining.’

wooyoung raises a hand. a goodbye. 

san looks back.

‘you could come with me, you know. i got accepted to that college, you could come and stay with me, in the city-’

wooyoung looks back, a single tear running down his cheek.

‘don’t you ever listen? i’ll find you when the sun is shining.’

as wooyoung walks towards his house, the sun dips below the horizon.

violet fills the sky before the darkness does.


	2. rainbow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there would be no rainbows without sunshine and rain. luckily, woosan is an umbrella.

_ rainbow _

there’s a rainbow. it's the one comfort about his tiny apartment - when the sun hits just right, usually as it’s setting, it’ll refract through the glass and from a rainbow across the living room. 

san has had a remarkably shitty day. first he had a lecture, which was long and boring and absolutely not what he signed up for when he chose to do a drama degree. then he had work. a 6 hour shift at a starbucks that is constantly slammed with people. he went home and basically passed out. his fourth and final year at university has been...stressful, to put it mildly. between the rush of meeting new people, making new friends and the hecticness of his degree, he’s barely holding on. 

his roommate, hongjoong, gives him a smile when he walks in through the door. his hair is blue now, san notes. when he had left this morning, it was strawberry red. 

‘rough day?’

if he didn’t know joong was just gloating because of his day off, he’d answer sincerely. instead, he stomps over the fridge and starts looking for leftovers to microwave - he’s home so late, hongjoong would have eaten without him.

‘oh, by the way, someone was here looking for you.’

‘huh? who wash ist?’

speaking with a mouthful of bibimbap makes him a little hard to understand.

‘i don't know. never seen him before. cute, though. said his name was...started with a w, maybe? or was that the delivery boy…’

as hongjoong tries to sort out the cute boys that visited him in the day, san feels his heart race increase. no. no way. it couldn’t be wooyoung. 

sure, wooyoung had promised he’d come find him, but like. that wasn’t exactly a binding promise. and also, it seemed like he was implying the reunion would be happening post-reincarnation. but still. just the possibility of it being wooyoung caused san’s heart to do very strange things, like he was an immature 16 year old again. (as opposed to what, an immature 23 year old?)

but, no. it couldn’t be wooyoung. as far as san knew, he was still stuck in that tiny village. 

‘oh, it was woosung! yeah, park woosung, from your class? he said he had found your script folder. i left it in your room.’

  1. so definitely not wooyoung - how would wooyoung even know where he lived? but just thinking about him has caused emotions to well up in san’s throat. he had successfully avoided such feelings for the last 4 years. why did hongjoong have to go break his streak?



‘and, by the way-’

hongjoong is still talking to him.

‘i’m spending winter break at my parent’s house, so you’ll be alone in the flat for christmas.’

‘actually, i’m going back home this year too.’

‘what?’

what?

hongjoong is understandably confused. san has spoken with his hometown with nothing but disdain for the small population and small minded people. honestly, san is confused too. he never wanted to go back, to see the houses and see everything he had lost when he left - but...thinking about wooyoung has made him feel like unfinished business has to be tied up. 

‘don’t you usually make your mom come up and see you?’

‘well, times are changing. i’ve grown out of my teen angst, so it’s time to go back where it all began.’

‘you do you, sannie. just don’t call me on the phone complaining about how boring it is every hour.’

‘of course not!’

that had been 2 weeks ago. now, san is parking his car - no longer the 1976 sedan, that had finally bitten the dust a few years ago. no, this is a brand spanking new 1982 station wagon.

he told his mother he was coming down a few days ago, and she had predictably reacted with confusion and then happiness. her sister couldn’t make it out, so she had thought she would be alone this year.

yep, san is being an a+ son. zero ulterior motives are behind his visit back. no pretty boys are involved whatsoever. before he can even knock, the door is thrown open and his mother brings him into a tight hug. the next few days are a blur - he’s tasked with decorating the house, cleaning the kitchen, pruning the trees, mowing the grass. he feels a little used, honestly. on the fourth day, he’s left off - however, there’s a strict rule. the Park’s neighbourhood christmas party is happening that evening, and as he is now a member of the neighbourhood again, he’s obliged to come. 

he spends the day loitering around all the places he used - saying hi to his old ice cream boss, chatting to a teacher he runs into. at around midday, he runs into seonghwa. 

‘seonghwa!’

‘san?’

san immediately runs to take some of his multiple bags - no doubt, he’s been tasked with getting supplies for the party tonight. 

‘san, what the hell are you doing back here?’

‘thought i’d finally spend a winter break in my hometown. you?’

‘i always come back for christmas. which you’d know, if you ever did.’

they laugh, falling back into an easy friendship. san discovers that seonghwa is almost finished a degree in business, and looking to start an internship at some fancy tech company. in return, san tells him of his upcoming senior showcase, and his plans to act on stage. finally, the conversation turns to tonight.

‘are you coming?’

san can’t tell if seonghwa is saying he should or not.

‘yep. mother’s orders.’

‘oh. well, you know, he’s gonna be there.’

‘who?’

‘san. come on. who else?’

wooyoung. despite coming all this way literally just to see him, san is a little nervous at the prospect of seeing his high school sweetheart again. well, sweetheart is a nice way of putting it. soulmate would be more accurate.

‘yeah, i figured. it’ll be nice to see him again.’

seonghwa shakes his head, like he can’t believe san is being this idiotic. 

‘yeah, whatever you say. i’ll see you tonight.’

holy shit. wooyoung. what if he has a girlfriend? a fiancee? anything that means san can’t just waltz in and announce his love?

yeah, it’s still love. still burning adoration, despite years of being apart. he pulls his coat tighter around him and goes home, head spinning.

the party starts at 6, and at 5:55 san is suffering from the fact he didn’t bring any formal clothes. he ends up in a nice shirt from when he was 17 and the nicest pair of jeans he brought. it’s on the casual side of semi-formal, but it’ll do. besides, he heard from his mom that the fathers have an ugly sweater competition every year. he can’t look worse than them. 

why is he even so concerned about what he looks like? the only people that are going to be there are his old neighbours and his old friends. seonghwa has seen throw up his guts after trying to chug an entire bottle of vodka. he’s way past the point of impressing him. and then that just leaves...wooyoung.

jung wooyoung, the bane of san’s existence even after 4 years of not seeing him. eventually, he’s going to have to swallow down his pride and just...go. 

‘oh, san, dear? we have to go now, are you ready?’

god, no. he’s about to throw up, à la 17 year old san with a bottle of smirnoff. 

he’s never been this anxious in his life, and he’s performed in front of 500 people wearing a bath towel. modern art his ass, his skeevy old professor just wanted to see his abs. 

he makes his way over the house, holding his mother’s tray of vegan, gluten free spring rolls. next to him is his mother, chatting incessantly about what the state of mr yang’s third wife. san’s hands are sweating so much he thinks he might drop the rolls. at the door of the park house, he is actually concerned he might pass out. 

what does wooyoung look like now? does he still work at the mechanic shop, or has he finally moved on? is his dad still around? what about his mother, who was always quiet and frail? 

‘oh, san, you’re so grown up!’ 

‘hi, mrs park!’

and then the party starts. it’s not really a party for san, more just being passed around. 

‘oh, you look so much older!’

‘so, hows that degree going for you?’

‘got a real future plan yet?’

‘here, i spiked it with some real alcohol.’

huh? oh, it’s yunho. he hadn’t even noticed he was here - he doesn’t live near them, so it’s probably more a friendship obligation. just as yunho passes the champagne glass into his hand and moves on, he catches sight of him.

_ him. _

it’s wooyoung, in the flesh. (and not in san’s dreams, like he’s been for the last while). he looks...good. tired. but oh god, he’s aged well.

his hair is long, and tied back in a short ponytail. his skin is golden. obviously whatever he’s been doing as left him muscular and tanned. san almost drops his drink. ok, all he has to do is say hi.

or avoid him. he knows he shouldn’t run, knows he shouldn’t just leave as soon as he could. but seeing wooyoung again fills him with so many emotions he literally has no idea what to do with. he takes a step back, and then another, and then-

it’s like it happens in slow motion. yunho is next to wooyoung, passing him a drink and tapping his shoulder. wooyoung turns, following the direction yunho is pointing. he looks at san, and their eyes meet. time stops.

wooyoung seems to go through the five stages of grief in about 0.5 seconds. once he reaches acceptance, san is already out the door. he ends up in the park’s backyard, sitting on the porch swing. and just. waits.

‘san?’

he’s not surprised that wooyoung followed him out. it’s wooyoung, you couldn’t get him to stay put for longer than 5 minutes. 

‘yeah, wooyoung?’

‘nothing, it’s just….i wasn’t sure it was really you. you know, you haven’t been back in a while.’

wooyoung comes to sit next to him, his weight causing the old swing to creak. the parks have wrapped christmas lights around the swing, and the rainbow lights cast colored shadows on his face.

‘i really did miss you. wondered how you were, at that fancy art school.’

‘drama school.’

‘right.’

wooyoung laughs. it’s music to san’s ears. he’s forgotten just how much he missed this, sitting and talking with wooyoung. but the awkward tension is palpable. there’s been so much left unsaid, and all it’s done is fester. 

they don’t even attempt at small talk, or to share nostalgic memories. they’re way past that. 

‘do you remember the last time we spoke?’

“honestly, san? not a clue. all i remember is being so sad i felt like i might die. might have got blacked out that evening. that whole week is still…’

wooyoung wiggles his fingers and smiles.

‘fuzzy. but i remember when we broke up.’

‘was it really breaking up? we were never officially together.’

‘oh, come on, wooyoung. it was breaking up.’ 

they laugh together, which is strange. san didn’t ever expect to be laughing about the saddest thing he’s ever gone through, but...having fun with wooyoung just comes naturally.

‘did you ever date anyone else?’

why does san even care about this enough to ask?

‘yeah.’

why did that answer  _ hurt _ ?

‘noone at the moment though. remember yeji? yeah. apologised for prom, stuck around with her. it was nice, but…’

‘but?’

‘but it wasn’t...you.’

‘why does it matter that it wasn’t me?’

wooyoung laughs bitterly and stares at the ground. the rainbow lights blink. 

‘don’t be an idiot, san. i never forgot my promise. and even though i knew i wouldn’t ever find you again...i was still waiting for the sun.’

‘oh...you said you’ll find me when the sun is shining. i remember. i..i never forgot, either.’ 

‘and yet here we are. meeting again. at night.’

the dramatic irony of it all makes san dissolve in giggles. 4 years spent waiting for the sun to shine, and then end up with only the moon.

wooyoung laughs with him. it feels so correct, to be laughing with wooyoung. there’s a hole that’s been aching for the last 4 years, burning whenever he tries with someone else, and being with wooyoung fills it completely.

heals san.

‘you know, wooyoung? we don’t need the sun.’

‘i’m sorry?’

‘we’ve always been so poetic. so dramatic. like this is some 7 act play we’ve been carrying out, and everything has to have a meaningful conclusion. but it’s not. i don’t want to act anymore, wooyoung. i don’t wanna wait for our fitting conclusion. i want it now. i want  _ you. _ ’

san doesn’t want to beg, but leaving wooyoung before almost killed him. leaving him again - he’s not sure he could survive. being here again caused every repressed feeling to come rushing back, but now he needs to act. he can’t be 18 and scared. not anymore.

‘but san, you belong in the city, and i-’

‘belong here? i heard your mother died. so did your father. the shop is owned by your uncles, you could anything you wanted just please don’t stay here, this isn’t where you belong!’

‘and where do i belong, with you, on a stage?’

‘didn’t you always want to be a firefighter? or an engineer? you could have that. just...don’t make me leave you. i can’t...let me your sun. you said that every rainbow needs rain? i’ve had enough of rain. i want the sun. i want to stand in the sun with you, wooyoung. i want  _ you  _ to stand in the sun.’

the rainbow lights shine, illuminating wooyoung’s tears red, orange, yellow, blue, green, indigo, violet. 

‘could i really have that?’

‘wooyoung, you could have anything you wanted.’

‘san, all i want is you.’

san smiles, bringing wooyoung closer.

‘you can have that.’

  
  


‘wooyoungie! wooyoung, baby, wake up, the sun has risen!’ 

there’s another rainbow, this one cast by the sun shining through their obnoxious pride flag. after moving in and finding out their neighbours had less than savoury opinions of their relationship, they had found the biggest pride flag amazon had to offer and stuck it up on their window, in perfect view of their balcony.

it’s the little things.

san stands in the doorway to their bedroom, watching as wooyoung drools onto his pillow.

‘come onnn, baby! i made you pancakes!’ 

wooyoung groans at that, rolling onto his back. 

‘wuzzat...why are you up so early?’

san laughs, dropping his body on top of wooyoungs. 

‘come on, baby! i distinctly remember you saying you wanted to get up bright and early to finish the painting in the bathroom. yes?’

wooyoung groans. 

‘i don’t think i would  _ ever  _ make a decision to be up before 10 am. you must have me confused.’

‘confused with who? the other dashingly handsome man i left in my bed last night?’

wooyoung giggles, wrapping his legs around san. clearing, the only thing on his agenda is more cuddles. 

‘nope! pancakes are getting cold. bathrooms need paint.’

‘wooyoungie needs cuddles!’

san laughs, running a hand through wooyoung’s (purple) hair. ‘don’t refer to yourself in the third person. the last thing it makes me want to do is give in.’

‘bullshit. you find me adorable.’

‘yeah. i sorta do.’

‘ew, gross. don’t be so sappy.’

san laughs again, the golden sun shining onto the pair. just like they had been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, this really was going to be an edgy angsty ending, but i just couldn't hurt the boys. also, @moonssan said she likes happy endings and i would do anything for kenzie

**Author's Note:**

> tbh, i feel like this fic has more potential than i gave it, so i might revisit in the future. also, rip to the itzy girls. the boys did NOT treat them as well as they deserve. 
> 
> also, follow my twt @yeoz0ne and say hi!


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